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>AHER'3 Edition 

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REPRESENTING BARRETT, 
COX & CO. 



Price, 25 Cents 



Mi 





COPYRIGHT, 1889, BY WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 



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Price, SO Cents each 



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No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



Representing 
Barrett, Cox & Co. 

A Farce in Three Acts 



By 
MANLEY DANA 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 
'9'3 



Representing Barrett, Cox & Co. 



CHARACTERS 



Colonel George Reading, lately retired from the army. 
William Burndette, Duke of Billsbury — his nephew. 
Jack Carter, a traveling salesman. 
Charles Herbert, a confidence man. 
Abner, the Readings colored butler. 
Marjorie Reading, the Colonel ' s daughter. 
Virginia Carter, Jack 's sister. 
Mrs. Hinds, the Readings housekeeper. 
Maggie, the Readings maid. 



SYNOPSIS 

Scene. — The Colonel's house, Richmond, Va. 
Time.— September, 191 2. 




Copyright, 191 3, by Walter H. Baker & Co. 



* TMP92-009032 



• CI.D 32790 



Representing Barrett, Cox & Co, 



ACT I 

SCENE. — Library in Colonel Reading's house. A home- 
like, comfortably furnished room ; doorway, entering from 
reception-room, back r. ; doorway, entering into dining- 
room, back L. ; window s, r. c. and L. c. ; fireplace, back 
C, with hanging glass beside it o?i l., and desk between it 
and door on r. ; tea-table on r., a little back of windoiv ; 
safe, front r. ; large easy chair on r. between window and 
safe; bookcase, front L. ; round table, L., in front of win- 
dow ; table has long green cover, coming almost to floor ; 
a telephone, magazines, etc., are on it; large sofa in frofit 
of fireplace; chairs scattered around the room, by desk, 
bookcase, etc. 

(As the curtain rises, Col. is sitting at the desk with his 
back to the stage. He leans over and presses a bell. As 
Abner enters back l., Col. turns around and faces him.) 

Col. (absent-mindedly rumpling his hair). Ah, Abner, I 
wanted to see you a minute to — er — advise you a little about 
ray nephew. You see, it's — er — it's the first time a duke ever 
entered this house, at least as far as I know, and I'm afraid 
some of the family may seem — well — a little self-conscious, you 
see — a little. (Looks hard over his glasses at Abner, who 
shifts his feet uneasily.) Now, Abner, that is what I want 
especially to avoid. Don't act at all as if he were an unusual 
person — just remember that he's my own nephew and show 
him right in as if we always had dukes about the house. Show 
him in here; the parlor's too formal a place for my own sister's 
boy. He's a sensible chap — at least I hope he is — and he won't 
want his American cousins to put on frills when they entertain 
him — er — at least I don't think he will. (Gets up and strolls 
about uneasily.) You see, Abner, I've never seen the boy 
myself, so it's rather hard to imagine what sort of a reception 
to give him, but 

3 



4 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

Abner. Ain't I to call him my lord, suh? 

Col. Yes, Abner, yes, of course. Always be sure to call 
him " my lord." But don't — er — don't act provincial, Abner, 
or — or self-conscious, or timid, you know 

Abner. How shall I act, suh ? 

Col. Didn't I tell you, you big donkey? Act just as if 
you were used to dukes. Don't you understand me? And be 
calm and dignified and collected — as I am. (Trips over the 
rug and sits down suddenly on the sofa.) Whew, I wish this 
first meeting was over. Reckon I'll go out and take a little 
brandy. {Starts toward the* door back L.) Oh, Abner ! 
{Looks at his watch.) He should be here any time within the 
next hour. It's five-thirty now, but the five-fifteen's always 
late. I've told Mrs. Hinds to wait tea for him : English peo- 
ple always have to have tea the minute they reach a place. 
{Nervously arranges the magazines on the table.) This place 
hasn't been dusted for a week. Good Lord, I'm glad we don't 
have dukes here every day ; they get on my nerves. 

[Exit, back L. 

(Abner has been standing watching him, nodding his head 
at intervals and answering assent to Col.'s remarks. 
As Col. goes out the door-bell rings ; Abner goes out 
back R. and returns almost immediately, ushering in Jack 
Carter. Car. is good-looking, gentlemanly, dressed in 
a we I I- cut suit, someiuhat the worse for wear, and carries 
a suit-case and his hat. He looks around him in a some- 
what surprised manner.) 

Abner {stammering with embarrassme?it). R-r-right in 
yere, my lawd. 

Car. {aside). My lord? Pretty good. And shown into 
the library, too. (To Abner.) Er — may I see the 

Abner. Certainly, my lawd ; the Cunnell'll be right in yere. 
Jest set right down and wait. Ah— Ah'll — Ah'll announce 
you. (Bows profusely and backs out L.) 

Car. My lord again. What's wrong with the old party ? 
Does he take me for a count or something ? (Surveys his feet 
and legs in great perplexity.) And me a traveling salesman. 

Enter Abner. 

Abner. De Cunnell'll be right in, suh, my — my lawd. 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 5 

Y'see you got yere a little earlier dan was expected, and so, 

consequential, y'see 

Car. No, you're wrong ; I don't see. So I was expected, 
was I? (Abner stares blankly and shuffles his feet.) Well, 
never mind. {Aside.') I'd better wait and explain to the 
Colonel. 

Enter Col. 

Col. My dear nephew, I am gladder to see you than I can 
say. I really can't begin to tell you how glad we all are to 
have you come to visit your American relations. And how 
are you after your sea voyage ? Pretty fine, hey ? Ha, ha ! 
And how do you like America? But I suppose you haven't 
had a chance to see much of it yet. You must be tired and 
dusty, and would probably like to go right up-stairs and get 
some of the travel stains off. (Looks critically at Car.'s 
somewhat mussed suit.) Abner, take Lord Burndette's suit- 
case up to his room. {All this time he has been pumping 
Car.'s hand.) Or would you rather have tea first ? 

Car. Yes, — no, — that is, hang it, Colonel, I 

Col. Don't call me Colonel, for the Lord's sake. Call me 
uncle. Why, good heavens, boy, your mother was my favorite 
sister. {Looks wistfully at Car.) I had hoped that you 
would look a little like her, but I reckon you must resemble 
your father. (Marjorie Reading and Mrs. Hinds enter.) 
Well, well, here's the rest of the family, William. You don't 
mind if I call you William, do you ? This is your little cousin, 
Marjorie, the one you wrote that letter to when you were six, 
remember ? Ha, ha ! And Mrs. Hinds, our housekeeper ; 
she's English, William. That in itself ought to make you feel 
at home. Ha, ha ! You see we aren't going to stand on cere- 
mony with you ; not a bit of it. Because, though your father 
was a duke, your mother was one of the most natural, unaf- 
fected women that ever breathed, not that that's casting any 
slur on your father, my boy. Ha, ha ! {Turns on Abner, 
who has been standing gaping with admiration.) Abner, 
didn't I tell you to take that suit-case up-stairs ? Now, hump 
yourself. 

(Abner sneaks out r. with suit- case.) 

Car. {despairingly watching his suit-case disappear). 
Heaven help me. I can't. 

Mar. Don't you think we'd better sit down now, father? 



6 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

Cousin William must be tired after his journey. We'll have 
tea in about fifteen minutes, — and English muffins. Doesn't 
that make you homesick ? 

(All sit down. Mar. and Car. on sofa, Col. in the easy 
chair, Mrs. H. by the table.) 

Car. (^nervously). Yes, no — that is, you see, I've really 
had as many English muffins in America as I've had in Eng- 
land, — more in fact. Because, you see, I {Aside.) Oh, 

hang it, why can't I come to the point ? 

Mar. {laughing). Mercy, you must have been eating ever 
since you landed then. You haven't been in America more 
than three days, have you ? Wasn't it last Tuesday that the 
Cedric got in ? 

Car. Why — er — yes, I believe it was Tuesday. But as I 
was just going to tell your father 

Mar. Yes, I'm sure it was Tuesday. We read of it in the 
paper, and we were all so thrilled to think that there was a real, 
live duke on board, who was actually our cousin. 

Car. {aside and gazing at her in admiration). My, she's 
a peach; I'm glad she's dropped the formality game. {Sud- 
denly remembers himself .) Of course. I mean, certainly not. 
(Suddenly grins in spite of himself.) Oh, you know what I 
mean. 

Col. Ha, ha ! William, my boy, you've got the most 
delightful grin. Do you know it? Now don't get embar- 
rassed again ; I mean it as a compliment. It's a delightful 
grin, absolutely un-English. And yet, not a bit like your 
mother's, either. That's the queer part of it. Dad burn my 
soul ! I think you and I are going to be good friends, don't 
you, son? 

Car. {earnestly). I hope so. But when I tell you 

Col. That's good, that's good. Mrs. Hinds, don't you 
think it's most tea time? (Mrs. H. goes out l. Door-bell 
rings.) Now, I wonder who that is? We don't want any 
callers the first day Bill's here. 

Mar. Dad, that's hardly the Southern hospitality that 
Cousin William was prepared for, is it? If you'll excuse me 
a moment, I'll go and hurry up Mrs. Hinds. 

Car. (making another effort). Colonel, I really must 

Col. Now, William, my boy, you've got to quit callin' me 
Cunnell. I'm your own Uncle George, and I won't be given 



cox & co. 7 

titles by my own flesh and blood. How'd you like it if I 
called you "my lord," hey? Ha, ha. You call me 

(Abner shows in Charles Herbert.) 

Herb. Colonel Reading? Allow me to introduce myself. 
My name is Herbert. I am a member of the secret service, 
and would like to speak with you alone for a few minutes, if you 
would be so good {Looks meaningly at Car.) 

Car. I'll just step outside, Colonel — Uncle. 

Col. {stiffly). No, William, you needn't trouble. This 
gentleman has nothing to say which should be kept from you. 
Mr. Herbert, let me present my nephew, Lord William Burn- 
dette, the Duke of Billsbury, sir. 

(Herb., properly impressed, bows. Car. advances and 
gives him a distinctly American handshake.) 

Car. I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Herbert. 
Col. Now, gentlemen, let's sit down and hear what Mr. 
Herbert has to tell us. 

{They all three sit down, and Herb, speaks confidentially 
aside to Col.) 

Car. (aside). If he's much of a detective he'll spot me for 
a fake duke before he's been here five minutes. Gee, this is 
some mess, but I'll bluff it out till he's gone, anyway, — might 
as well keep the joke in the family. 

Herb. And so you see, sir, the body of Mrs. Gladding was 
found this morning, but so ominous were the circumstances 
that we do not wish the facts to be generally known, and are 
trying to keep them out of the papers as far as possible, that is 
why I must ask for absolute secrecy on your part — {pausing 
impressively) for the time being. It looks to us like a particu- 
larly bad case. Not only was the unfortunate lady plainly 
murdered, but all the jewels which had been in a case on her 
bureau were reported as missing. A vigilant search has been 
made for them, but nothing has been found. And 

Car. Do you know this Mrs. Gladding, Colonel — Uncle? 

Col. Never heard of her, my boy. She's probably one of 
those new families that have been coming into Richmond for 
the last fifteen years. But pardon me, Mr. Herbert, if I seem 
to ask, how does this concern me? 



8 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

Herb. Why, that is what I was coming to, Colonel Read- 
ing. The only clue that we can possibly find as to the identity 
of the criminal is one which leads, almost undoubtedly, to 
your butler; — Abner, I think, is his name. 

Col. Abner ? 

Herb. Yes, sir, much as it grieves me to have to say so, 
he is plainly implicated in the affair. If not in the murder, at 
least in the burglary which followed. One of our spies saw 
him, or one who closely resembled him, leaving Mrs. Glad- 
ding's house the night after the tragedy, with a small, while 
bundle under his arm. He was tracked to this house, but as 
his reputation for veracity and honesty is widely known, we 
thought best to come to you first before arresting him, in case 
that you might have some light to throw on the case. 

Col. Not the slightest. Proceed. 

Herb, {nervously). Well, sir, I have come to ask that you 
will allow me to enter this house as freely and often as I like 
during the next three days, that I may keep an eye on this 
man. We do not wish to arrest him quite yet, but prefer to 
wait and watch his movements, in the hope of finding out who 
his accomplices are. I realize that it will be a severe strain on 
your hospitality, but I feel sure that for the good of the com- 
munity 

Col. Good of the community be hanged ! And let me tell 
you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, that the sooner you get out of yere 
the better. I'd as soon accuse my nephew here of murder and 
burglary as Abner — sooner in fact, for Abner's been in my con- 
fidence for sixty years, and I never saw my nephew till to-day. 
Good -afternoon, suh. {Rings bell. Abner enters.) Abner, 
show this gentleman out — and you can do all the spying and 
sleuthing you like, on the other side of my front door, suh. 
Good-day, suh. (Herb, is shown out by Abner. Col. is 
rushing angrily up and down the roo?n, shaking his head and 
brandishing his fists. Car. slips over to window on r., and 
gesticulates through it as if motioning some one to wait.) 
Preposterous, my boy, perfectly outrageous. Accusin' that nig- 
ger of murder and burglary. Oh, my Lord, if I wasn't so mad 
I could laugh — I really could. Excuse me a minute, William, 
if you'll be so good. I must tell Marjorie about this. I — I'm 

all upset, really (Crosses over to door r., and opens it.) 

Abner, you black nigger, why don't you shut the front door? 
{Re crosses to door l.) I won't be a minute, William — come 
on in, if you like ; they're getting tea. [Exit, l. 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 9 

(Car. motions again at window. Herb, creeps stealth- 
ily up from outside and looks in. Car. opens window 
and lets him in, then tiptoes over and locks door L.) 

Herb. Whew, nice amiable old party. Does he treat all 
his callers like that ? 

Car. I don't know. Say, is that all true? All that mur- 
der business, I mean ? 

Herb. Absolutely true, I regret to say. Why? Don't you 
believe me? 

(Car. sits on arm of sofa. Herb, stands nervously by the 
easy chair, his eyes wandering around the room.) 

Car. Well, you see it sounded rather — fishy. Abner hardly 
looks the part of a bloodthirsty villain who murders ladies and 
gets away with their jewels, now does he ? But that's aside 
from the question ; I say, have you got an evening suit that 
you don't want to-night? 

Herb. An evening suit? Please excuse me, my lord, 
but 

Car. That's just the point, I'm not your lord, nor yet any- 
body else's. My friend, I am a plain, honest American, pure 
and simple, and I ask you again in ail humility, have you got 
an American, — I mean, an evening suit? 

Herb. Well, yes, I have, but you must excuse me if I 
don't just catch the drift 

Car. Certainly, I'll snow again. This is the dope. lama 
traveling salesman, representing Barrett & Cox's Peerless Ome- 
lette Tins. The best little tins in the world, and if you're ever 
looking for a safe investment, just put your money in one of 
them. Made of the very best aluminum, self-turning, with 
hinged reversible cover — a mere child could — no — that comes 
later on. 

Herb. Wait, wait, I don't care for your silly omelette tins. 
What's that got to do with my suit ? 

Car. Well, I arrived here this afternoon, hoping to sell one 
of these articles — by the way, they are only one dollar ninety 
apiece, two for three dollars. Yes, yes, I am going on. 
Colonel Reading, thanks for teaching me his name, mistakes 
me for his nephew, who is a duke, when he's at home ; — no 
kidding whatever, I assure you. I tried bravely and persist- 
ently to set him right, but you know the rate at which his jaw 



10 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

can wag, and — well — here I am. They will all be going up- 
stairs to dress for dinner in about half an hour, and my suit- 
case, which the ex-murderer has just carted up-stairs, contains 
nothing but two sample omelette tins, with reversible covers. 
Therefore, you see my predicament, and if you'll oblige me by 
coming across with your dress suit, for just one night, I'll — 
I'll 

Herb, {in blank amazement). What are you going to do, 
bluff it out ? 

Car. Why, sure, until the real duke comes. He should be 
here any minute now, or else he'll send a telegram saying he 
can't come, which will do just as well. But he may be delayed 
a while longer and that's why I want the suit. I positively re- 
fuse to try to explain any more. When they find me out, the 
worst they can do is to kick me out — and perhaps they won't 
even do that. I've done nothing to be ashamed of and uncle 
has a sense of humor. 

Herb. Well, you are a cool one. But listen (Stands 

thinking.) By gosh, I've got the best little scheme. You go 
ahead and play you're the duke. I'll send you a suit and keep 
the real duke from the door somehow, and you keep your eye 
on Abner. 

Car. Me, a detective. Great Scott, — not a chance. I'd 
queer the whole game right away. You'd better try that on the 
real duke, who'll be here presently. 

Herb. U-m — I don't think I will. He may be too much 
of an aristocrat to take an interest in murderers, and we don't 
want to let any more people know about this affair than is abso- 
lutely necessary. 

Car. All right, then, go ahead with your plan, and quickly. 
I think it's perfectly miraculous that uncle hasn't begun to bat- 
ter down yonder door by this time. Don't you? 

Herb. Not at all. I told Abner before I came in the win- 
dow to keep him away, as the duke had pressing business with 
me. Abner's an obliging old soul. 

Car. When he isn't murdering or pillaging. But it is 
rather pathetic to think of the old villain innocently helping you 
to plan his downfall — I beg your pardon, you were saying? 

Herb, {earnestly). That you really must help me to keep 
an eye on Abner. He's a dangerous proposition. That soft, 
ingratiating kind always is. I have every reason to believe 
that he has the jewels in his possession now — in fact that — 
(zualking rapidly to safe) they are in here. 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. II 

Car. Heavens and earth ! Your deductions are amazing, 
my dear Holmes — I mean Her-Herbert. How on earth could 
that darkey get into the safe ? 

Herb. Why, he knows the combination, of course; these 
old " before the war" servants know everything. I don't sup- 
pose the Readings ever use the safe any more, so Abner thought 
it a good place for his boodle. Don't you agree? 

Car. No, I can't say I do. I don't follow you worth a 
cent, but I'm always ready and anxious to catch a burglar and 
a murderer, especially as I may sleep beneath the same roof 
with him to-night. What do you want me to do ? 

Herb. Keep your eye on him — sharp. Be sure and not 
let the Colonel know your suspicions or he'll blaze up again 
and spoil everything. Be sure. {Starts toward window.) 

Car. I will. I'll be as innocent as a lamb. What are you 
going to do? 

Herb. I'm going to waylay the duke. When you want to 
communicate with me, call me up at the Vincent Hotel — 
148 R is the number. What the deuce can you give as an 
excuse for 'phoning, though? Oh, I know. I can be your 
valet. 

Car. Righto ! Staying at the little hotel around the corner. 
What's a good French name for a valet? Somehow I can't 
think of anything but Ed Pinaud's Eau de Quinine. 

Herb. Well, I'll be Pinaud ; you can call me Ed for short. 
Let me know of anything suspicious and I'll come right around. 
Don't be alarmed if I come disguised ; you'll know me by my 
French accent. And oh, by the way, if you can get the com- 
bination to that safe out of the Colonel, without letting him 
know what you're about 

Car. Aye, aye, sir. Fix you right up. You'd best be 
going now, I think. {Helps htm out of the window.') Watch 
out for the salvias, old sport, and remember the dress-suit. 
{Closes windo7v, strolls across room to fireplace, sits on sofa.) 
Now, by all the gods, I am in for it. I feel like a murderer 
myself, but when you stop to think I'm really being very phil- 
anthropic. The old Colonel won't be warned of his danger, so 
I take upon myself the task of averting it ; the duke will be 
irate, to say the least, but when I show him a real murderer in 
captivity, he'll be appeased, I'm sure. And I'll have at least 
a whole day more with my cousin. Ye gods, Jack, you're a 
lucky man. The only one I'm really sorry for is Abner. 
He's really too obliging for a burglar, very much too— — 



12 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

{Goes over and unlocks door l. Virginia Carter enters r., 
hurriedly. Car. turns and sees her.) Holy Moses! 

Vir. Jack Carter ! Where in the world did you come 
from? 

{They rush together and kiss each other.) 

Car. Hush, hush, they may hear us. Gee, sis, it's good 
to see you again. How's everybody? 

Vir. Everybody's fine. But oh, Jack, we do miss you so. 
Papa's all over being mad, and I know if you came back he'd 
take you into the firm right away, and 

Car. (shortly). All the same, girl, I'm not coming. I 
fooled along and wasted money till I'd got the whole family 
down on me. Now I'm going to make good at this before I 
start the prodigal son act. (Vir. pouts.) You don't seem at 
all proud of your noble brother. But what are you doing 
here, all this way from New York ? 

Vir. Visiting Marjorie, to be sure. She was my best friend 
at Farmington. Now please explain what you're doing here, 
all by yourself, and so messy. I'm ashamed to own you. 

Car. That's lucky, because I don't want you to own me — 
just at present, that is. I suppose you know about the duke, 
who's coming here. (Vir. nods.) Well, Colonel Reading 
mistook me for his nephew just now, when I arrived in the 
interests of Barrett and Cox, and would not be denied. Oh, 
but that's not all. Then a bloodthirsty detective arrived and 
stuck me to stay here and watch out for a murderer, who lurks 
somewhere near here, exact locality indefinite. Meanwhile the 
detective delays the real duke. It's like a play. Aren't you 
excited ? 

Vir. Yes. Who is the murderer ? 

Car. That's all a secret. And you are on no account to 
mention this to a soul, least of all to Marjorie — to Miss Read- 
ing. Remember, henceforth I am the duke. The detective is 
going to send me over some clothes, as my suit-case is full of 
omelette tins. Well, what's the matter now? 

Vir. {pouting again). Oh, it's all very exciting and dra- 
matic, I suppose, for you, but I do want to meet the duke. 

Car. Do you? I can't say that I agree with you. How- 
ever, you'll meet him right enough in time. Now, sis, will 
you keep this a secret? It's a matter of life and death. 

Vir. Yes, but 

Car. Then scoot. I must let in uncle. 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 1 3 

{Unlocks and opens door l. Vir. runs out r. Col. enters L.) 

Col. {somewhat stiffly). Abner said that you had impor- 
tant business with some one and did not want to be disturbed. 
So we've been waiting. 

Car. {overcome with embarrassment). Oh, Colonel, I am 
sorry. It was awfully rude and inconsiderate of me, but you 
know that beastly detective, when he found that 1 was a 
duke 

Col. What, you had pressing business with him? 

Car. No, indeed, Co — uncle, he had it with me, or thought 
he had. (Mrs. H. enters l. with tea-tray, Mar. follows. 
They arrange tea-table, a?id all group themselves about it.) 
You see (improvising rapidly), he had heard of my father's 
house in England having been robbed some years ago, and was 
burning to know if the burglars had been brought to justice, 
and (Aside.) I'm getting so I lie quite well. 

Col. (fuming). That fellow is absolutely hipped on the 
subject of burglaries — absolutely hipped. Personally, I think 
he looks like a burglar himself. And it was queer; Abner 
says he insisted on being shown into the library — of all places 
for a detective ! 

Mar. (pouring tea). Now, father, please let's change the 
subject. You know if Abner should overhear any of this, 
he'd never get over the humiliation of having been suspected. 
Cream or lemon, Cousin William ? 

Car. Neither, thanks. (Takes cup.) 

Mar. Oh, I suppose that's the English way of taking tea. 

(Car. confused.) 

Col. (gettitig up and strolling i?npatiently around the room). 
Abner, burglar ! Why, only last night he was calling Maggie 
down for talking to a strange man in the back yard — and quite 
right and proper he should, too. 

Mar. Here's your tea, dad. Now, do sit down and be 
calm. 

(Col. takes cup and sits on sofa. ) 

Mrs. H. Well, do you know, Maggie's none too honest 
herself, I'm afraid. She has a very sly look. Haven't you 
noticed it, Colonel? 

Col. Well, now that you mention it — I think I had. 
Decidedly sly. Although, of course 



14 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

Mar. (desperately). Cousin William, can't you think of a 

pleasanter topic ? If Abner overhears (Vir. enters r. 

Mar. is greatly relieved.} Oh, Virginia, I'm so glad you're 
awake at last. Miss Carter, let me present my cousin, Lord 
Burndette. 

(Car. bows elaborately. Vir. makes him a saucy curtsy 
and smiles coquettishly.) 

Vir. I am honored to meet you, my lord. 

( When the others aren't looking she makes a face at him 
and laughs at his discomfiture.) 

Car. (aside). 'Gin, for heaven's sake, don't act so; they'll 
suspect something. 

Vir. (aside). Act so? How? 
Car. So — so familiar. 

(Vir. laughs again and sits down beside Col., on the sofa.) 

Col. Do you know, Marjorie, I think I'll have all those 
old family jewels taken out of the safe and put in the bank 
some time soon. These are dangerous times. 

(Ring at front door. Col. starts.) 

Enter Abner, r., with package. 

Abner. Package for de dook. 

Car. All right, Abner, thank you. Put it up in my room. 
(Winks at 'Vir. Aside.) Good old Pinaud ! [Exit Abner. 

Col. Why, those jewels 

Mar. I'll see that they're put in the bank to-morrow, 
father. Virginia, did you have a good rest ? That long ride 
must have tired you. 

(Door-bell rings.) 

Col. Now, what's that? 

Enter Abner, r. 

Abner (to Col.). Gennelman to see you, sub. 

(Col. goes out r., followed by Abner.) 

Vir. Do you know, my lord, I should never have supposed 
you to be English — you have such a very American accent. 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 15 

Mar. Yes, I had thought of that, too, but I suppose the 
English accent as we hear it here on the stage is really just a 
caricature of the real thing, and 

Car. Quite so, quite so. In fact, most of the fellows at 
my college had no more of the regulation English accent 
you've heard of than I have. {Aside.) I'll stick to the truth 
where I can. 

Vir. Indeed, what college did you attend ? 

Car. (aside). Oh, Ananias ! (To the company.) Rugby 
— that is, Oxford. (Aside to Vir.) And when I get you 
home, 'Gin Carter 



Enter Col. 

Mar. What was it, dad ? 

Col. (sitting on sofa). Oh, one of those everlasting agents 
— the town's full of them nowadays. This one was selling 

Car. (dreamily). Barrett & Cox's Peerless Omelette 
Tins 

Col. (surprised). Why, yes, that was it. How on earth 
did you know ? 

Car. (coming to himself in haste). I — oh — ah — why, I 
don't know, I'm sure ; I must have heard it somewhere. ( With 
interest.) Did you buy one? 

Col. Buy one ? I should say not. Martha makes the best 
omelette in the United States, without the help of any fake tins 
either. (Door-bell rings.) I wish that bell was out of order. 

Mar. It will be soon. (Abner enters.) Who is it, Abner ? 

Abner. Gennelman to see de Cunnell. 

Col. The devil ! My tea is getting cold. Here — I'm 
coming. [Exit. 

Mar. Poor dad ! He's a little nervous lately, I think, and 
all this talk of burglars has made him worse than usual — listen. 

Col. (from outside). No, I don't care for omelette tins. I 
don't want any of your damned omelette tins, I tell you. Good- 
afternoon. 

Enter Col. 

Mar. Why, father, the poor soul has to make a living, you 
know. 

Col. Well, let him go and make it then, and not bring his 
confounded omelette tins around here. He was representing 
Barrett & Cox's firm, too. Bad cess to him. Now, my dear, 



1 6 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

I'll have a new cup of tea and (Door-bell rings.) This 

must be a practical joke. 

Mar. I'll go, father. [Exit. 

Vir. (aside to Car.). Have you any idea what it means ? 

Car. (aside). Not the slightest. Mum's the word, how- 
ever. 

Col. Preposterous, my boy, preposterous, when a gentle- 
man can't have tea in his own library without (Mar. 

enters.) Well, Marj ? 

Mar. {resignedly sitting down). He was selling Barrett & 
Cox's Peerless Omelette Tins. He even had a suit-case full 
of samples to show me, but I declined. 

Col. So did the other two — have suit-cases. It's a con- 
spiracy, Marj, that's what it is. Probably a burglary at the 
bottom of it, too. But I'll put a stop to it. I'll have this thing 
stopped right away. Abner, you black nigger, come yere. 

Enter Abner, r. 

Abner. Yessuh. 

Col. Abner, the next young man or old man that comes to 
this house with a suit-case, don't you give him the chance of 
walking on to the gallery — you just tell him to be off. And 
the next — and the next — we've no interest in omelette tins. 
Tell 'em we're vegetarians if necessary. (Chuckles.) 

Abner. Yessuh. [Exit. 

(Door -bell rings.) 

Col. Now listen. 

Abner (from outside). You needn't bring none of your 
omeletter tins upon dis yere gallery. We don't want none of 
you-all's omelette tins. De Cunnell he say so. (Door slams.) 

Col. I rather think that will settle that little game. Evi- 
dently some one is trying to get into this house, but they'll 
have to reckon with Abner first. (Chuckles.) Well, William, 
I'm going up to dress for dinner. Any time that you care to 
come up Abner will show you the way to your room. 

(Col., Vir., and Mrs. H. exeunt. Mar. and Car. are left 
standing near tea-table.) 

Mar. (laughing). What a perfectly funny afternoon ! 
Don't you think so, Cousin William ? 

Car. Yes, in a way, but a most enjoyable one, too, 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. IJ 

\ 

Cousin Marjorie. I don't know when I've had such a pleas- 
ant time. 

Mar. You think you'll like America then, in time? 

Car. In time? I like it now. I love it. Of course, you 

see (Stops and thinks.) I'm half American, you see, 

and that makes a difference. 

Mar. I've always wondered whether Aunt Marjorie pre- 
ferred England after she went to live there or not. I'm sure I 
should have always cared more for America, and they say I'm 
a good deal like Aunt Marjorie. Do you think so ? 

Car. Well — yes — a little, but your Aunt Marjorie wasn't to 
be mentioned in the same day with you. 

Mar. (aghast). Why, Cousin William, and she was your 
own mother. 

Car. Oh, Lord, so she was ; I had forgotten that, that is, 
you see, — I — confound it, now I'm going to make a fool of 
myself. Well, never mind, I'm a little mad, I guess. 

Mar. I thought Englishmen never said "guess." You're 
not a bit like what I thought you would be 

Car. Are you sorry, or do you like me a little bit as I am ? 

Mar. Oh, yes, I — I — like you (Bell rings.) There's 

the bell again. 

Car. Oh, bother the bell, Marjorie. Do say you'll like me 
a little some time. Don't mind if I act crazy — I suppose I am, 
but — I've had enough experiences to-day to make me so. 

Mar. Oh, listen. Abner is getting dreadfully excited. 
What can these people want ? 

Abner (outside). Yes, clear right out ; we don't want none 
of 

Mar. I'm going to see. [Exit. 

Car. (going over to window r. and looking out). Why 
couldn't they let me alone for a minute? How many agents 
does this make? Gee, this one looks a little too swell for an 
agent — a little too swell. Is that a tweed suit I see ? By 
George, it's the giddy dook himself, or I'm another. And isn't 
he mad ! Why, of course ; Herbert must be at the bottom of 
this; he must have sent all those men to get the Colonel mad. 
I never thought of that. So that's how he kept the duke from 
the door. Isn't he the wise old bird ? Keep your hair on, 
Burndette, old top. I wouldn't mind having your opinion of 
Southern hospitality just now — at a safe distance. Well, good 
luck to you, my boy — auf wiedersehn. (Mar. enters as Car. 
is gesticulating at the window.) Oh, ah, wh — who was it? 



l8 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

Mar. Another agent; that makes five. But Abner nearly 
threw him down the steps. Perhaps that will scare away the 
rest. And, Cousin William, father says there's just half an hour 
left to dress. (Car. bows and goes out r. Mar. stands look- 
ing after him, then she walks across and takes his hat from 
desk, smooths it ge?itly and examines it.) How odd ! It's 
stamped New York, and it certainly looks more than three 
days old. {Absently.) What if he really weren't the duke? 
He's so much nicer than I'd expected — a duke to be. 

{Laughs a bit shamefacedly and stands with head bent, 
smoothing hat.) 



CURTAIN 



ACT II 

SCENE. — Same as Act I. Time, nine o'clock of the fol- 
lowing morning. 

(Maggie discovered seated at table, facing audience, tele- 
phoning.) 

Mag. Yes, they're going automobiling about two, and won't 
be back for two hours at least. You'll surely come. We may 
not have another chance like this again. Abner doesn't sus- 
pect a thing. Bring your tools and you can break open the 
safe while I keep my eye on Abner. Here they come. 

{Puts up receiver and begins to dust. Col., Mar., Vir., 
Car. and Mrs. H. enter doorway, l. Mag. goes out.) 

Col. Yes, indeed, suh, no more of this Lives-of-the- 
Hunted game for me. I've sent for a sample burglar alarm ; 
the very newest and most efficient kind. And if that proves 
satisfactory, I'm going to have one on every window of this 
house. Yes, sir. 

Mar. Oh, dad ! 

(Mar. and Car. sit on sofa, Col. at desk, Vir. in easy 
chair, Mrs. H. by table.) 

Col. Yes, I am, my dear! Things are getting too serious 
for trifling. Here was that villainous-looking man in yere yes- 
terday accusing Abner of burglary, and then all those fellows 
with suit-cases, and Mrs. Gladding, whoever she is, murdered, 
and her jewels gone. And Abner says he saw Maggie talking 
to that man again last night. He warned him that if he ever 
caught him around here again he'd beat him to a jelly. 

Vir. How nice for Maggie's young man. 

Mar. Yes, father, probably he's only one of Maggie's 
beaux. And if Abner ill-treats him we'll lose a perfectly good 
servant. I, for one 

Col. You, for one, know nothing about it, my dear. By 
the way, where's the mail? (Mrs. H. brings it from table.) 
Oh, yes, thank you. 

19 



20 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

Mrs. H. You don't need me for anything this morning, do 
you, Miss Marjorie ? Then I'll go help Martha with her pies. 

[Exit. 

Col. Here's a letter. The writing looks something like 
yours, doesn't it, Bill ? 

Car. {studiously observing the envelope). Why, yes, uncle, 
a little. 

Col. Well, we'll see what he has to say for himself. 

{Opens letter and begins to read.) 

Mar. (to Car.). This certainly is getting to be a happy 
home. Dad seems to think that we are all in imminent danger 
of burglars, and Virginia (glancing at Vir., who is reading) 
kept me awake half the night inquiring about Mrs. Gladding's 
murder, though how she heard of it I can't imagine, as I tried 
very hard to keep it from her. 

Col. For the Lord's sake, what new deviltry is this ? This 
is without doubt the most infamous and preposterous thing in 
the world. Listen, William. " My dear Uncle George : It is 
in a state of the greatest astonishment and perplexity that I am 
writing to you to inquire as to the cause of my dismissal yes- 
terday by your butler." What in blazes does he mean? "I 
feel sure that you cannot be aware of the decidedly inhospitable 
and most unexpectedly hostile" — good Lord! — "reception, 
which I received at his hands. He very nearly threw me down 
the steps and then stood at the top and abused me, until out of 
sheer self-respect I was forced to retire." Good for Abner ! 
" I feel sure that it must have been a case of mistaken identity, 
for I cannot believe that my own uncle " — own uncle is good — 
"would sanction such an action. At first I intended to tele- 
phone you, but decided that this would be the more discreet 
and dignified course to take. If you would favor me by an 
explanation by return mail, I should be deeply grateful. I am 
stopping at the Vincent Hotel, and will remain there until 
to-morrow. If by that time I have heard nothing from you, I 
shall understand that you prefer not to see me, and will make 
my departure. Hoping that it has all been a mistake, which 
we shall soon meet to laugh over, I remain, affectionately, your 
nephew " Merciful heaven ! 

Vir. ~\ 

Car. \ Well, go on ; go ahead. How's it signed ? 

Mar.) 

Col. It is signed "William Burndette." I solemnly swear 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 21 

it is. Am I crazy, or is he ? Who the devil is he, anyway ? 
What does he want? What does he mean? {General as- 
tonishment. All rise to look at letter. Car. looks disturbed. 
Vir. looks furtively at him. Mar. studies letter carefully.') 
What do you make of it, Bill? It's one of those infernal 
omelette men, you may depend upon it. And he's deep, 
devilish deep, too. Look there — {pointing to letter} I told 
you his writing was like yours. It's more than that, it's a de- 
liberate copy. Now, how in the devil could he know what 
your writing's like? And what in the devil can he mean by 
this hokus pokus business ? Can you offer any suggestions ? 

Car. Hu — well, really, uncle, very little, except as to my 
handwriting. My valet is staying at the Vincent Hotel, and if 
I remember rightly he has a letter of mine with him which I 
asked him to mail. He may have forgotten to mail it, and 
this fellow may have gotten it. Don't you suppose so? {Aside.) 
There really is no end to my cleverness. 

Col. Why, yes, that's it, of course. But what's the fel- 
low's plan ; do you see that ? 

Car. No, uncle, I'm afraid I don't. It looks pretty doubt- 
ful altogether. But he may be one of these burglars our friend 
spoke of yesterday, who tried to get in here first as an agent, 
and is trying again to-day as a duke. Do you think 

Col. Yes, I think that's almost probably it. You should 
go in for detective work, my dear William. By the way, I 
wish we had a real one around here right now — things are 
getting worse and worse. 

Car. {eagerly). There's that Mr. Herbert. 

Col. Mr. Herbert ! I wouldn't trust him in my chicken 
coop. No, when we have to have a detective, we'll have an 
honorable one, by George ; one who can at least look you in 
the face. But we haven't come to that pass yet, I hope. 
When I get those burglar alarms at every window and fix you 
and Abner up with horse pistols, we ought to be able to catch 
any kind of a thief — agent or duke — without the help of any 
damned detective. That sample alarm must be on the way — — 

{Starts out R. Car. goes over to Vir., and leans over her 
chair.) 

Mar. Father, I think you had better write to that man. 
Col. That man ! What man ? 

Mar. That man who says he's the duke. It's a very sin- 
cere sounding letter ; remarkably gentlemanly and well written. 



22 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

Col. Well written ! Of course it's well written. Isn't it 
copied from one of Bill's ? You talk like a child, Marjorie, a 
perfect child. And what if it is gentlemanly ; am I to write 
to a thief, a common horse thief, probably, and invite him to 
my house because I like his handwriting ? Marjorie, you make 
me very angry. [Exit. 

(Mar. stands looking thoughtfully at the letter on the desk, 
the?i suddenly sits down and begins to write.') 

Vir. Oh, Jack, I'm so worried. I'm afraid that dreadful 
duke will come and then there'll be a quarrel, and you have 
such a dreadful temper, Jack. 

Car. Yes, but I shan't have any call for it this time. 
'Gin, don't you worry ; the duke'll be the wrathy one. But I 
hope we can stave him off a little while longer till we've caught 
the murderer. That will make everything all right. 

Vir. No, it won't. I don't believe there is any murderer. 
Do you ? 

Car. Well, I have a sort of a hunch that way myself, but 

Herbert was so cock sure about it No, I guess I'll stick 

with it a while longer. It can't be so very long. 

{They talk together.) 

Mar. (ringing bell; Abner enters'). Abner, will you please 
call a messenger boy and tell him to take this to the Vincent 
Hotel and deliver it to the Duke of Billsbury immediately? 
You needn't look so surprised, Abner. Just do as you're 
ordered, and don't tell a soul, — that's a woolly, woolly lamb. 

{Exit Abner. Mar. reads letter again.) 

Vir. And you think it will really come out all right, Jack? 
The murderer will be caught and the duke will forgive you 
and 

Car. Oh, yes, I'm sure of it. It's got to come out all 
right, sis. Now do, for heaven's sake, look pleasant, and as if 
you were talking to a duke. I know I'm a nuisance, but 

Vir. You sweet old dear, you're not a nuisance, and I'll 
help you all I can. {Reaches up and pulls him down and kisses 
him. Mar. turns around as if to speak.) There, now I'm 
happy again. 

{Both look up and see Mar.) 

Both. Oh— ah ! {Spring apart.) 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 23 

Mar. (rising and sweeping toward door r.). I beg your 
pardon. I — it was very thoughtless of me to look around 
then ; please excuse me. (Turns to go.} 

Both. Marjorie ! 

Mar. Yes ? 

Car. Oh — hang it — don't go. We — I 

Mar. So sorry, but I must. I think I hear father calling 
me. \Exit. 

Car. Gee whiz ! this ceases to be funny. (Vir. starts 
laughing.') Oh, say, 'Gin, quit it. Just like you to get a fel- 
low in a fix and then laugh at him. (Starts walking up and 
down angrily.) What did you kiss me for, anyway? You — 
you — ninny. Don't you know that we're strangers and only 
met yesterday ? Why, I never kissed a girl before on such 
short acquaintance. Quit, I say. I don't see anything funny. 

Vir. Oh, dear, I can't stop. Well (Starts out.) 

Car. 'Gin, where are you going? You aren't going to tell 
her? 

Vir. You go along and sit down. I'm not going to let 
anything out. [Exit, r. 

Car. (sitting dejectedly on table). Oh, no, not a thing. 
She's not going to make any more mistakes, nor let any more 
secrets out — as long as they're all out already. And it looked 
— oh, Lord — it looked as if I had kissed her. {Jumps up and 
walks around.) Oh, Marjorie, Marjorie, I can never get you 
to like me again — until you know that I'm 'Gin's brother, but 
by that time she'll know that I'm a fake duke, and I'll be in 
wrong worse than ever. (Sits in armchair, half facing audience.) 
However, I don't believe Abner's a murderer at all or even a 
burglar. He has a most innocent, law-abiding look for a 
burglar. Innocent and care-free — hello ! (Abner has crept 
stealthily in through door r., with a white bundle under his 
arm. He makes for the dining-room door, furtively on tip- 
toe, a scared, hunted look on his face, and not looking around. 
Car. turns in his seat and ivatches him go out and softly close 
the door. Whistles.) Je-rusalem. I take it all back. He is 
up to something deep and dark. Who would ever have thought 
it of the old fellow. Well, at least there's no longer any need 
of trying to get the safe combination out of uncle. Abner must 
have taken the junk out last night or early this morning. Looks 
as if he meant to make a getaway to-night, and I'll have to 
notify Herbert right away. {Starts to7card telephone.) No, I 
guess I'll locate the treasure first. 



24 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

{Starts off after Abner.) 

Col. (his voice is heard outside r.). Bill ! I say— Bill ! 

Car. Yes, uncle. Confound it, what does he want ? 

Col. (from outside). Come up yere a minute. I want you 
to give me your opinion of this patent lock. I had it put on 
my window last winter. If you think it's a good one, I'll have 
'em put all over the house. Well, why don't you come? 
William ! Doggone his ugly picture. 

(Sounds of his coming down-stairs.) 

Car. (has been standing irresolute at door, trying to listen 
to Col. and watch Abner through the door at the same time). 
Hang the lock ; I'll have to go — the treasure will keep, I guess. 
Coming, Uncle. 

(Starts to door r. Col. enters r. with lock and screw- 
driver in his hand. He is followed by Vir.) 

Col. Here, you see, is an extra one. It's one of the best 
locks I've ever seen. I'll put it on this window just to show 
you how it works. 

(He and Car. go over to window on r., and Col. proceeds 
to adjust lock. Mar. enters, sits on sofa by Vir., and 
begins to read paper.) 

Mar. See here, Virginia. (Reads.) "The Duke of Bills- 
bury arrived at the Hotel Vincent yesterday. He expects to 
stay for two days, after which his plans are indefinite." What 
do you think of that ? 

Vir. That fake duke again? 

Mar. I don't believe he is a fake. (Impressively.) I 
think — I think our Cousin William over there is the fake. 

Vir. (aghast). Oh, Marjorie, you don't. 

Mar. Yes, I do. Don't you ? 

(Gazes atVm. earnestly. Vir. is confused; hesitates first, 
then answers firmly.) 

Vir. No, indeed, I don't. I think he is a most honorable, 
trustworthy and honest gentleman. 

Mar. {sarcastically and coldly). Well, unfortunately I lack 
that ardent admiration for him that you seem to feel. And 
moreover, if you will excuse my saying so, the fact that he kissed 



cox & co. 25 

you after having hardly known you a day, is to me sufficient 
proof that he is no gentleman. 

Vir. Marjorie dear, you don't understand. It was my 
fault really, not his — that is — oh, dear me — you don't know 
anything about him. 

Mar. {firmly). No, but I intend to. I have written the 
other duke a letter, which I think should clear up things pretty 
well. Then we shall see. 

Vir. Oh, Marj, my dear, what have you done? Now just 
supposing he is an impostor, he will have your letter to back 
him up, and 

Mar. No, my letter will hardly back him up. It will sim- 
ply bring him forward. I said, " Dear sir, the Duke of Bills- 
bury arrived here yesterday, and has been with us ever since. 
If you will come here in your real character and not disguised 
as either an agent or a duke — you will find it much easier to 
gain your ends, whatever they may be," — or words to that 
effect. Now, if he's the real duke, he will know that there is 
an impostor here on the premises, and will come to settle with 
him ; and if on the other hand he is the fake, he will see that 
we are aware of the fact, and desist. I think on the whole it's 
one of the cleverest things I ever did. 

Vir. {dubiously). Y-es — but I do think 

(Col. and Car. leave the window.) 

Col. Nifty little lock, isn't it? I'm going to order three 
or four dozen of them and have 'em put all over the house. 
Now, girls, you come up-stairs with me. I'm going to exam- 
ine your windows. Marjorie, that one by your desk has a very 
bad catch. 

Mar. {to Vir.). We'd better go. Perhaps it will put him 
in a better frame of mind. We must humor him in every way 
we can, or there'll be an explosion. 

(Mar., Vir. and Col. start out k. Car. starts out ' l., and 
collides with Abner, who is entering without his bundle.) 

Car. Oh — ah — excuse me. 

Abner. Anything ah kin git fer you, my lord ? 

Car. Yes — er — well, no, perhaps not. ( Watches Abner 
suspiciously as he goes out r.) Now where the deuce is his 
precious bundle, I wonder? Well, I'd better get word to 
Herbert to come at once, then we can make a search. If they'll 



cox & 

OLay keep out of here while i 'phone. - . at table •.} 

r : ? : _ / . . - . 

hand to take recover. R., <z/r«/ begins dusting. 

Car. xifr Inking sadly at her.') Maggie, how loDg does it 
usually take yon to dust this room ? 

Mag. Oh, not ^ . rrn or twenty minutes, my lord. 

{Takes everything frj-m desk and puts them on sofa, and be- 
gins to dust desk carefully.) 

Car. Indeed, in that case I should recommend a vacuum 
cleaner. (Sits lost in thought a moment. Aside.) Heavens 
I talk confidentially 10 Herbert with her around, 
and I can't wait here all the morning. I'll just run over to the 
Vincent and see Herbert myself," that'll really save time. 
Maggie (walking to door r -here I am, tell 

them I've gone to my room with a headache, and don't want 
to be disturbed for an hour. Don't forget. 

(Mag. continues dusting. Opens window R. to shake duster. 
Stares out.) 

5 d that's the way he goes up to his room, is i: ? He's 
a deep one. I wonder what his game is ? (Door-bell rings, 
■tarts dusting again.) Well, he's not so bad, though he 
is a duke. I won't give him aw; 

- 

Col. 

was that. Abner? Oh, my sample alarm? 
bout time. Oh, Abner. do vou keep the front door 
locked? 

Col. Well, see that you do hereafter. Go and lock it now. 
I mean to be safe from marauders in my own house at least. 
_. unwraps package. The alarm consists 
i and wires to attach to battery 

dow we'D see how it 

works. & — - to side of window, placing lever so that 

sill w ver wfll hit and ring bell " — 

:he bell it at sid( ■ :w R.) 

. Sab now. Now 



:-. i .- :- 1 - : ■----. : : . _ . ; _ . : 

Mai}. Virginia, come here. (Stands of and admires it.) By 
gum, I'd like to see the burglar that cooki pass tint. 

^«^r Mar. and Vis^ t /avowed oy Abel 

Mar. What is it, dad ? 

Col. Why, this burglar alarm. Yon see I've pot k up and 

now Fm going to experiment wiih it. Mar), you go np-stairs 
— :.ri: :: : -. , — , . : -. . . . - 

:t.!i: '•'.;,;:;; -. : . . -. :_--.-.- ; I_r — : . : ; :": zl.l :. =1 
iri.-. :: v:_ ? ;. , :-_-. f_; i _..:_ r . II-,. r. -. : i r: :_: :~ 
the back gallery.— Where 5 Bill? 

Mag. He's gone up to his room for a while, sir. He said 
he r.ii -, -riii:-r 

Col. AH ri^ht— we'll see if hell bear it too. Tins is the 
'.Z-itsz id :z±y "i: - :'-± =:::■: 1: - ■- ::i : r- ::. ::-: 5 
no hope for os. Nov, yon all ran along, r n wait a nmnitr, 
then I'll open the window and yon see if yon can hear it. 
{Exeunt all, laughing. There is ike wise cf footstep im 
adyoimmg roams mud closing of doo rs. Col. waits m mi vats, 
them walks solemnly over and opens window. Not a son nd is 
heard. Col. splutters with rage.) Doggone the foot thing ! 

most say. {Kneels and examines it.) Oh, I see. These are 

■•':. ;-'_ .5 11: :::::; z: .:.i 1 : t_ .:" :__:- 1 i 
what's wrong. Just as well that I happen to know something 
about ekctnory, however. I'll get the water pitcher. ( 
L.. and returns immediately with glass pitcher. Honors water 
into cells.) The: 

Mar. (from outside). Horry up, dad. 

Col. (knrriedls*. Yes, yes, my dear; jnst a nmnnte now. 
{Hands sBp and pitcher f mils and breaks.) Oh, car* 

:: :: : _rre'_" :•= : r iz::r :: 717 ; 

(Car. peers in window r., opens it stealthily amdcEmks in, 

growling all the time.) 

Car. The devil take that detective, anyway. He Bed 
when he said he was staying at the Vincent, or else the clerk 
did jnst now. And some'tbeVs locked the front door. {Ashe 
gets half in he sits up and his head shoves the uirn m m up. 
Alarm goes of wiAstartBng noise.) Stnfeing cats ! Gecr r 
'.::---;--- :-:>:. L '_.::: «_. .•:- ; I z: :z:z :: 



28 



COX & CO. 



{Leaps through window and dives through door r. Col. 
enters L. with broom, shrieks, "The burglar/" and 
sets out. Abner folloivs with poker ; Mrs. H. next, with 
rolling pin, crying, " What upon earth?" "Abner ! " arid 
follows him. Car. rushes i?i door l. and collides with 
Mar. and Vir., before fireplace, who have just efitered 
from r. Col., Abner, Mrs. H. and Mag. rush in and 
all meet in center. Cries of " What on earth ? " " What's 
the matter ? " " Whar de burglar ?" etc.) 

Col. {spluttering). The — the — burglar ! A burglar has 
entered the house ! Bill, did you see him ? 

Car. No — I — I — I didn't see him; that is 

Col. By the Lord, life isn't worth living these days ! We'd 
much better all go straight to the poorhouse, where at least 
we'll be free from robbery. Bill, where were you when the 
alarm went off ? 

Car. Where was I? — Oh — coming into the library. 

Col. Coming into the library? And you didn't see him? 

Car. Why — why — no. You see — I was so astonished 
when I heard that bell that I really forgot to look at the bur- 
glar. [Admiringly.) That is the best little bell. 

Col. {shortly). You're an idiot. You must be, if you'd 
stand listening to a bell, while a bloodthirsty wretch of a bur- 
glar is running right past you. It wouldn't be safe for you to 
go out alone. 

Car. {aside). I'm not going again, believe me. Hereafter 
it's me for the quiet seat by the fireside. 

Col. Well, this burglar has got to be caught. He can't 
be far from here, that's certain, for we'd have heard him if 
he'd tried to open any door or window, — they all make the 
deuce of a noise, especially if you're in a hurry. {Looks care- 
fully around room, behind safe, under table, etc.) There's 
no one in here, that's certain. Now, Abner, you search the 
rest of this floor and then the cellar. I'll search up-stairs, 
then help you here. We'll get him dead or alive. 

Car. (deprecatingly). Oh, uncle — I really wouldn't 

Col. You wouldn't, hey? You'd rather be murdered in 
your bed, I suppose. We'll, we're going to search, anyway. 
Bill, do you think you could see the burglar if he came in now 
and tried to get out of the window? 

Car. {laughing). I think so, uncle, if I were near enough. 

Col. Well, see that you are. Here — {pushing easy chair 



REPRESFNTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 2Q. 

so that it directly faces window R.) sit right here and watch. 
If you see anything, anything at all that looks as if it might be 
a burglar, or makes a noise like one, grab it and hold tight. 
If it's very strong yell for help, but don't you let go. 

Car. {resignedly sitting down). Very well, uncle, I'll do 
the very best I can. 

Col. Good. Abner, you and I'll begin operations at once. 
You girls had better go up-stairs to your rooms and lock your 
doors. Look under your beds first. Now — we're off. 

(Girls, Mrs. H., Mag. and Col. go out r., Abner out l. 
Car. sits dejectedly in chair.) 

Car. Great Caesar's ghost ! Could anything be worse 
than this? A murderer in the house sneaking around with 
his plunder under his arm. (Abner, unheard by Car., sneaks 
in L. with bundle, sticks it under table and tiptoes out again.) 
I, disguised as a duke, spying on him, unable to get word to 
the detective; besieged by a duke from without, and a man- 
eating Colonel within — who first chases me with a broom and 
then sets me at the window to catch myself; and all the time 
I'm making a goat of myself in a new way every minute. 
Marjorie thinks I'm a blackguard because I kissed my sister, 
and her father just called me an idiot. What will they call me 
when they know it all ? — Oh, what's the use anyway? I'll 
call up Herbert, and when he comes I'll help him bag the 
murderer ; and then, when that's settled, I'll clear out. The 
real duke won't rest quiet very long, and I'd best be on the 
road before he appears to brighten the landscape, or Barrett & 
Cox may lose a valuable representative. (Goes over to telephone 

and takes up receiver.) 148 R, please, and hurry up 

Hello ! Is this 148 R? May I speak to Mr. Charles Her- 
bert? Oh, is this he? This is Jack Carter, don't you 

know? The duke — you bonehead Well, I'm glad you've 

waked up. 

Enter Mrs. H., r., with work-bag, aud sits on sofa. 

Mrs. H. Oh, dear, I'm too nervous to stay up-stairs alone. 

Enter Col., r., with gun; crosses room and goes out l. 

Car. Mrs. Hinds, wouldn't you rather be with the other 
ladies? 

Mrs. H. Mercy, no. I always feel so much safer where 



3O REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

there's a man around. But I'm as nervous as a witch even 
here, I declare. 

{Opens work-bag and begins to sew. Car. eyes her in de- 
spair y then turns to 'phone.) 

Car. Ed, my dear fellow, do you get me? I'm just 
'phoning to my valet, Mrs. Hinds. I say, Ed — er — that 

black suit, you know — the very black one Yes Yes 

Well, it needs pressing Yes, pressing. P-r-e — double s. 

Yes, yes, you know what I mean? He's French, you 

see, and doesn't understand well. What? Oh, the sooner 

the better By all means Not till four? Oh, all right, 

but be sure you make it then Yes And oh, Pinaud, old 

boy {girls enter softly and sit, one o?i each side 3/" Mrs. H.), 
I didn't get the combination — er — ah — the union suit, you 

know — union suit — don't you get me? Yes Why not? 

Because it's unnecessary — absolutely unnecessary. Oh, you 

needn't get mad; I'll show you why when you get here 

Yes, four o'clock. Good-bye. (Jiangs up receiver.) 

Col. (from outside). I've got him ! By the Lord, I've 
got him ! Stand, or I fire ! 

(All spring up and stand expectantly, listening.) 

Abner (from below). No — Cunnell. — No, you ain't got 
nobody but me, suh. They ain't no burglar yere, suh. 

Col. (still outside). Oh, is that you, Abner? Damn it, I 
thought 1 had him then. 

Mrs. H. and Girls. Only Abner ! 

(All drop to their seats again.) 



QUICK CURTAIN 



ACT III 

SCENE.— Same as Act land Act II. Time, 3:45 P- M. of 
the same day. 

(Mrs. H. discovered seated in easy chair, knitting. Pres- 
ently she draws large gold watch from ivaist, examines 
it, and sticks it carefully back. Then she gets up and 
bustles around room arranging furniture, smoothing table 
cover, etc.) 

Mrs. H. Quarter of four. Almost time for those people 
to be home, and then look out for more high jinks. The Colo- 
nel is certainly stirred up over burglars, and he's even got me 
so that I woke up three times last night, thinking I heard a man 
in the dining-room. Dear me, I hope if the burglars do come, 
they'll wait till the Colonel's home to attend to 'em. He'd 
settle them. {Knocking heard off l.) Sakes alive ! What's 
that? Somebody at the side door. {Knocking continues, 
growing louder.) Why won't he stop? He'll batter the door 
down. Why doesn't Maggie go? (Knocking ceases.) I de- 
clare I'm all in a tremble. Plague take that detective ; he 
started all this fuss. (Mag. enters l., turns back and seems to 
be arguing with some one, then shakes her head a?igrily a?id 
closes door.) What is it, Maggie ? 

Mag. The man with the laundry, ma'am. (Mrs. H. sighs 
in relief.) But he won't give it to me, ma'am. He says I can't 
have it. That he wants to bring it in himself. He's waiting 
out in the butler's pantry, ma'am. I said I'd tell you, but he 
didn't seem to hear me. What'll I do with him? 

Mrs. H. Why, I don't know, I'm sure. Is he the regular 
laundry man ? 

Mag. U — no — I don't think I ever saw him before. He's 
— he's a sort of a freak, ma'am. Looks as if he'd dressed in 
the dark. I think he's crazy. 

Mrs. H. (peering out of window l.). There goes the 
laundry wagon now; he must have left the laundry in the 
pantry. (Sighs deeply .) Thank heaven he's gone. Everyone 
seems to be acting strangely lately. (She goes out l. , while Mag. 
looks out of 'window. Mrs. H. returns almost immediately with 
paper package.) Yes, he left it right on the shelf. Here, Mag- 

3 1 



32 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

gie, take it up-stairs. No, never mind, I'll go up myself. The 
Colonel is so particular about where his collars are kept. Mag- 
gie, I wish you'd come up-stairs and sweep out the hall ; it 
looks frightful. The Colonel left the broom in the reception- 
room, I think. Try to get it done before the family comes 
home. They'll be here any minute now. 

{Exit yl., followed slowly by Mag. Door l. opens softly 
and William Burndette steals quietly in glancing fur- 
tively around. He has on neither coat nor vest, his shirt- 
sleeves are rolled up, a black streak is across his face, his 
collar is off, and he wears a disreputable cap pulled over 
his eyes. He peers anxiously around the room, then tip- 
toes over and sits gingerly on the table.') 

Burn. Well, by Jupiter ! In at last. And if ever a poor 
mortal had a deucedly hard time getting into his own uncle's 
house, I am he. Wonder where the beastly butler is. If I 
were a native of these parts, as my uncle is, I fancy we'd soon 
be engaged in one of those pleasant family feuds you read about 
in the South — horse pistols and court-martials, and all that sort 
of thing. (Catches sight of himself in mirror and hastily 
removes hat.) By Jove, is — is — do I look like that? I wonder 
where the dirt came from ? ( Takes out large silk handker- 
chief and tries to wipe dirt from face, standing in front of 
mirror as if he were shaving.) Oh, yes, I remember, off that 
beastly trellis work when I was trying to look in the window. 
This house is an impregnable fortress, every door locked and 
every window. Uncle must be a nervous man. I don't think 
I care for America; the only really public spirited person I've 
encountered since I landed was that laundry man, and he was 
Irish. I had to give him my new derby in exchange for this. 
{Holds out cap and scowls at it.) Well, now that I'm in after 
a two hours' wait, we'll have a bully fight when uncle and the 
duke get home. {Rolls sleeves higher and examines his arms.) 
He looked like a husky fellow as well as I could see through 
the hedge, but that may have been due to the big overcoat. 1 
think it was the Colonel's, anyway. I can manage him, I 
fancy, if the Colonel doesn't take a hand. And, my word, there 
was a ripping looking girl in the car with them. Two in fact, 
but the little one was the jolliest. {Auto horn outside R.) 
Whew, here they come. My aunt ! Where shall I go ? Oh, 
I know. 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 33 

(Dives under table and pulls green cover around him.) 
Enter Col. r., done up in huge overcoat. 

Col. (calling). Mrs. Hinds ! Mrs. Hinds ! Dog bite her, 
where is she ? Mrs. Hinds ! 

Mrs. H. (outside). Yes, Colonel, I'm coming. 

Col. Never mind. I'm coming up. Has anything hap- 
pened while we've been gone? [Exit, r. 

(Sounds of people going upstairs. Burn, gets half-way out 
from under table when Vir. enters R.) 

Vir. (calling back over her shoulder). Coming right up, 
Marj. I only want my purse. 

Burn. The jolly one ! (Starts to crawl under again.) 

Vir. (turning). Oh, what are you doing there ? 

Burn, {without turning, jumps to his feet and clutches tele- 
phone). I'm — I'm — examining the telephone, miss. 

Vir. Indeed ? It looked to me as if you were coming out 
from under the table. 

Burn. Well, I had to come out some time, you know. I 
say — you really couldn't expect me to stay under there all the 
time, don't you know. 

(Stands up, leaning against table, trying to appear at ease.) 

Vir. (bravely, but on the verge of tears). You — you needn't 
try to deceive me. I know who you are; tell me, aren't you 
the duke ? 

Burn, (aside). Good heavens ! She's the first intelligent 
person I've met since I landed. (To Vir.) Yes, madam, I'm 
the duke ; but may I ask how 

Vir. You want to know how I guessed ? Well, you see I 
rather expected you'd come sooner or later (drawing nearer 
to him) ; but oh, my lord, have mercy, I implore you to have 
mercy. (Comes nearer and puts hand on his arm.) My 
brother — he is the one they all think is the duke — is innocent. 
I swear it. He — he was mistaken for you. He really was. 
Oh, you don't know how easy it is for the Colonel to mistake 
things — and then — before he could explain, a dreadful detective 
came and persuaded him to stay here and watch for a murderer 
who was supposed to be in the house. Truly, he did, on my 
honor ! And so — Jack couldn't go and leave all these people 



34 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

and his sister to be murdered in their beds, could he ? Oh, 
my lord, he couldn't. (Cries softly in her handkerchief.) 

Burn, {aside). H'm — sounds pretty fishy, but she evi- 
dently believes it. And isn't she pretty? Too bad she has to 
cry, but she's so deucedly pretty while she does it, I'd hate to 
see her stop. 

(Vir. looks up suddenly and catches him looking at her. He 
jumps guiltily and looks the other way. ) 

Vir. Oh, my lord, you won't fight Jack, will you? He — 
he — has an awful temper and — oh, dear, it will be so awful. 

Burn, {much embarrassed at having her put her hand on his 
arm again). There, there, my dear young lady. Of course I 
wouldn't fight your brother. Not for worlds. Don't you 
worry. I just want to have an understanding with him, and 

{Unconsciously clenches his right fist, but Vir. doesn't see it.) 

Vir. (joyfully). Oh, that's so good of you. I'll send Jack 
right down. Oh, I can't thank you. 

{Takes his hand and kisses it. Mar. enters r. and sees it. 
Burn, sees her and snatches hand away. He and Vir. 
spring apart.) 

Burn, (staring straight before him). Oh, I say. 

Mar. (in outraged displeasure). Virginia, who is this man ? 

Vir. He — oh — oh — he's the (Aside to Burn.) 

Didn't you say you were the telephone man ? (Burn, nods.) 
He's — he's — the telephone man. 

Mar. (has crossed to table and now examines the telephone). 
Why, there's nothing the matter with the telephone. 

Burn. No, ma'am — nothing at all. I've just fixed it, and 
now I'll be going, ma'am. [Exit, l., in haste. 

(Mar. stands looking sorrowfully at Vir.) 

Vir. Oh — Marjorie — I 

Mar. Please don't explain. I'd rather not hear it. Oh, 
Virginia, I am surprised. I really never thought you could do 
two such dreadful things in one day. 

Vir. It was awful, I admit, but oh, Marj, my dear, I didn't 
really mean it that way — I 

Mar. So much the worse then. If you didn't mean to, 
then this must have become a habit with you — this 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 35 

Vir. Marj ! 

Mar. Please don't say any more — I — I must go up-stairs. 

\_Exit, R. 
Vir. {laughing hysterically). Goodness, will things ever 
come right, I wonder? 

{Motions wildly out door l. Burn, enters stealthily, watch- 
ing her anxiously.') 

Burn. I don't understand your signals. Am I to come in 
or hide ? 

Vir. Come in — come in — and hide somewhere. I'll send 
Jack right down. Oh, this is awful. {Runs out r.) 

Burn. And I suppose that irate damsel is Cousin Marjorie. 

She's good-looking too, but the other {Pats his hand 

gently and smiles sheepishly.) Perhaps I'd better be a little 
easy on the impostor, if she's his sister. {Starts as sound of 
voices is heard off l.) Lord, here comes somebody ! Back 
to my nest again. 

{Crawls under table. Mag. and Herb, enter l., Herb. 
disguised as valet. He carries suit-case. Both look 
furtively about, then approach safe. Herb, kneels down 
before it, opens bag displaying full burglar's kit. Sets to 
work at safe, while Mag. watches door r. Burn, sticks 
his head cautiously out from table cover and watches in 
amazement. They both have their backs to him.) 

Mag. Why didn't you come sooner ? They've been away 
all the afternoon. Now they're home, and may come in here 
any minute. What was the matter ? 

Herb, {working at safe). The make-up man couldn't let 
me have this — {motioning to clothes) until half-past three, and 
I didn't dare come around in my own character. I'm in 
wrong here, you know, because I told the Colonel a cock and 
bull story about the butler. It was the best yarn I could think 
of just then, but I went a little too far when I accused the 
butler of murder. The Colonel got mad then and put me out. 
{Rattles safe.) Damn the thing ! {Sits back in disgust.) 

Mag. Don't give up yet. Keep on at it— I'll watch. But 
I thought you said you had a new scheme. What was it ? 

Herb. Yes, I did. That fake duke who's staying here 
was to get the combination out of the Colonel for me ; you see 
he believed the yarn. 



36 

(Burn, begins to understand and comes still further out 
from under the table.) 

Mag. About Abner ? 

Herb. Yes. You see he's not a duke at all ; got mistaken 
for one or something, and then just in the nick of time I 
arrived. He believed the whole story and bravely promised 
to stay here and cop the murderer; also to get me the combi- 
nation — {putting head back a?id laughing) the poor boob. 
And after all my cleverness the bonehead didn't get me the 
combination at all. 

Mag. I don't understand at all. How did you persuade 
him to get you the combination ? Why did 

Herb, (rising wearily). Don't ask so many questions. 
It's a long story and I'll tell you all about it later. I haven't 
time to open the darned safe now. They'll be in here in a 
minute or two. (Starts to replace tools in bag.) If you'll go 
up and tell Clarence his valet's come, I'll try to convince him 
that we need the combination. 

(Burn, springs to feet and grabs Herb, by the collar. Mag. 
shrieks and runs. Herb, and Burn, fight.) 

Burn. No, you won't. I'll do all the convincing there is 
to be done, and it won't take me very long either. 

(Car. enters R. Stares indignantly, then joins fight.) 

Car. Here, you. What are you doing to my valet? Let 
him go, I tell you. What do you mean by attacking him ? 

(They go on fighting and in the confusion Herb, escapes out 
r. while Car. and Burn, clinch and roll over and ever, 
Burn, clutching Herb.'s mustache which came off in the 
fray.) 

Enter Col., r. 

Col. What's this? What's this? Bill, what are you do- 
ing ? (Light dawns.) Who is this? By George, the burglar ! 
Wait and I'll help you. (Prepares to pitch in.) 

Car. I don't know who he is. I say, if you'll let go — I 
will. There ! 

(They release each other and stand erect.) 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 37 

Burn, {wildly). Where is that man? Where did he go ? 
We must catch him. 

Car. What man? The one whose mustache you're hold- 
ing so carefully ? (Burn, looks at it in dazed ivay and nods. ) 
He's up-stairs attending to my clothes, as a respectable valet 
should. Now, what did you mean by mussing him up that 
way? 

Burn. He's a burglar. He — he — was trying to open that 
safe. {Walks hastily over, opens bag and discloses tools.) 
See? 

Col. Oh, he's a burglar, is he ? Then who, if 1 may in- 
quire, are you ? 

Enter Mar., r., atid stands unnoticed. 

Burn. I am the Duke of Billsbury. 

Col. God bless my soul ! 

Car. {joyfully). The duke! Are you the duke? Gee, 
but I'm glad to meet you. Put it there, my boy. {They 
shake hands, and Col. stares as if he expected to see a ghost.) 
You're just in time to help me snare my murderer and write 
my name forever in the hallway of Fame. Come on, there's 
no time to lose. 

Burn. But wait. Wait, I say. You're laboring under a 
great delusion. There is no bally murderer. And you've just 
let the burglar escape. 

Car. (in disgust). Man, you're crazy — you're a blooming 
idiot. That isn't a burglar. He's a detective. The real bur- 
glar is Abner, that coon butler. 

Col. What ! 

Car. Yes, Abner, and I'll prove it. Oh ; I know you both 
think I'm loony, but I'll show you. I'll get Herbert and we'll 
find the bundle, then you'll see. Abner's been prowling 
around the house with those jewels done up in a sheet. I saw 
him, and if you'd let me alone, sir, I could have tracked him 
down and found where he hid them. But now he's got 'em 
hidden away somewhere, and the Lord knows how long it'll be 
before we find them. In the meantime I suppose nobody will 
believe me. Well {Turns to go.) 

Burn. Hold on. What sort of a bundle did you say it 
was? A hard, white one, all knobs and bumps? 

Car. Yes. That is the jewelry of a Mrs. Something, who 
was murdered a while ago. Abner came through here this 
morning with that bundle under his arm, and a regular hang- 



38 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

dog air. I was sitting right there (pointing to easy chair) and 
saw him ! If I only knew where it was now. 

Burn. That's all right ! I know where it is. I've been 
sitting on it all the afternoon. 

(Dives under table and comes out with bundle tied in white 
sheet.*) 

Car. Oh, great ! That's the very bundle. Now we'll see. 

(Burn, begins to unwrap it. Vir. enters, sees what they 
are about and rushing up to Burn, grasps his arm.) 

Vir. Oh, don't open it ! Oh, my lord, please, please don't. 
Car. Virginia, what do you know about this business ? 

(Col. and Mar. stand in blank asto?iishment.) 

Burn. My dear lady, I 

Vir. Oh, don't open it ! (Turns to Car. and flings her- 
self in his arms.) Oh, Jack, we'll be discovered if he does ! 

Car. Discovered? Virginia, in heaven's name, are you 
implicated in this? (Vir. sobs wildly.) I must know the 
truth. (Snatches bundle t unrolls it quickly, disclosing con- 
tents.) Ye gods above ! My omelette tins ! 

(General confusion.) 

Vir. (still sobbing). I tried to hide them myself, Jack. 
When I heard some one coming I gave them to Abner to hide, 
and made him promise not to let any one see them. And now 
it's ail found out. 

Col. But will some one tell me 

Mar. Excuse me a minute. Virginia, I must know one 
thing. Where have you seen this man before? 

Vir. He is my brother. Now you don't think me unprin- 
cipled and horrid, do you ? 

Mar. (becoming enlightened ; to Car.). And how did you 
come here ? 

Car. I was representing Barrett & Cox's Peerless Omelette 
Tins, the best little 

Col. But Lord bless my soul, what started all the trouble? 
I understand now that I must have mistaken you for my 
nephew. But how did you cook up all this infernal detective 
scheme ? 



REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 39 

Car. Why, Herbert, of course. He persuaded me to stay 
and spy on Abner, and 

Burn. Is Herbert the valet ? He's a burglar, I tell you. 
I overheard him talking to one of the maids. They were try- 
ing to get into the safe, and what's more, if you don't look 
out he'll escape. 

Col. Oh, we'll catch him easily. Abner ! Abner ! Come 
here. 

Enter Abner, r., torn and bleeding, one eye black, collar off 
and coat torn. 

Abner. Yessuh ? 

Col. Why, Abner, what is it? What's happened ? Where's 
that man ? 

Abner. He done gone, suh ; what there is lef ' of him. 
Yessuh, I done tol' him if I catch him yere again I'd give him 
a lickin'. Yessuh, he an' Maggie, they done sneak off together. 
Reckon dey won't be back, suh. 

Mar. He and Maggie? Then they were in league to- 
gether? 

Col. Well, they didn't get into the safe, anyway. That's 
one good thing. 

Car. Abner, I owe you a most humble apology. Never 
mind what for ; you might not like to hear. I beg your par- 
don, I apologize and I ask you to excuse me. You are a true 
gentleman. Abner — I — ah — I hope you got him once behind 
the ear. 

Abner. No, suh ; twice, suh. On each side of his head. 

Car. Oh, fine, fine. You're not only a gentleman, Abner, 
you're a nobleman, a — a — duke, in fact. Which reminds me — 
(trying to conceal his mortification and humiliation at the mis- 
take he has made) two dukes {motioning to Burn, and Abner), 
they say, are company — three (pointing to self) are generally 
a crowd, and as I am by far the least worthy duke of the three, 
I feel it my duty to depart at once. Colonel, I'm horribly 
sorry to have chosen your house in which to make a fool of 
myself; I only hope you won't hold it up against 'Gin in the 
future. She can't help being my sister, you know. And I 
want to thank you once, before I go, for your splendid hospi- 
tality, even if you didn't mean it for me. I — I — wish I were 
your nephew. Will — will you shake hands, sir ? 

(Goes up to Col. with extended hand. Col. takes it.) 



40 REPRESENTING BARRETT, COX & CO. 

Col. Why, see here, my boy, you mustn't leave us like 
this. There's always room in this house for one more. And I 
want you and my nephew here to get acquainted. 

Car. Thank you kindly, uncle — Colonel — and I'm sorry, 
but I really 

Vir. Oh, do stay, Jack. Things have been so horrid, and 
now we could really all be friendly. 

Burn. Mr. Carter, I'm not the host in this house, but I 
can't help saying that I wish you wouldn't run off like this. 
{Laughs.} People who have met under such unusual circum- 
stances shouldn't part so soon. 

Col. There ! You hear them ? They all want you. You 
must stay, Bill — Jack 

Car. {to Mar.). Do you want me to stay? 

Mar. {looking at him shyly, then at floor). I — I'd like it 
better than anything, and we'll have omelette for breakfast — 
Jack. 



CURTAIN 



New College Plays 



THE COLLEGE BALL 

A Comedy in Four Acts 
By Harry O. Osgood 
Seven males, five females. Costumes modern ; scenery, three interiors. 
Plays two hours and a half. Written expressly for school and college per- 
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the parts good, plot of strong and sympathetic interest, lots of good and 
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A sure success. Price, 25 cents 

CHARACTERS 

Tom Bradford ") $ en i or Kitty Peters, his daughter, 

Dick Adams j J * Frances Wing. 

Henry Carter ^ Eleanor Bradford, Tom's aunt, 

Phil Patten >• Juniors, Sally Prentiss. 

George Ropes j A Maid. 

Professor Peters. A Waiter. 

TWO STRIKES 
A Baseball Comedy in Two Acts 

By Thacher Howland Guild 
Six males, one female. Costumes modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays 
an hour and a quarter. Originally produced by The Mask and Bauble 
Society of The University of Illinois, and highly recommended for similar 
uses. Very easy to produce, all the parts of nearly equal opportunity, 
dramatic interest unusually strong ; an unusually well written piece with 
excellent character drawing. Can be relied upon to please. Royalty of 
$5.00 for each performance payable to the author. 
Price, 2 j cents 

CHARACTERS 
Dean Thomas, Dean of under- Phil Hodge, a senior. 

graduates. Cap. Fosdick, oj the team. 

Artie, his student office-boy. Eben Spaulding, Lans uncle, 
Lan Spaulding, of ihe baseball Helen Hodge, Phil's sister, 

team. 

AN EQUAL CHANCE 

A Sketch in One Act 

Two male characters. Scenery unimportant ; modern costumes. Plays 
cwenty minutes. A bright little rapid fire piece for two light comedy 
men. Light but keenly and continuously amusing. Just the thing to have 
ready for extemporaneous performance, since it requires neither scenery 
nor properties, and can be done in any costume. 
Price, /j cents. 



New Plays for Female Characters 

THE PURSUIT OF THE PARSON 

A Mock Trial in One Act 

By Helen Lee Brooks 

Thirteen females and jury. Costumes of the future ; scenery unimpov 

ant. Plays one hour. A clever and amusing picture of the days to com* 

•fhen the ladies will run things. Originally presented in Louisville, Ky 

Price, 25 cents 

CHARACTERS 

Hon. Portia Blackstone, Judge, 

Madame Elizabeth Kent-Coke, Prosecuting Attorney, 

Madame Tomasia Erskine, Attorney for Defendant, 

" Dotty " Develin, the Defendant, 

Clerk of the Court. 

Sheriff. 
Witnesses for the Commonwealth Witnesses for Defendant 

Miss Mehitable Simpkins, a Dr. Eleanor Ainsworth, ex 

spinster of uncertain age. pert Oculist and Alienist. 

Miss Nancy Ann Sims, another Mrs. Polly Posy, chum 9/ 

spinster of doubtful age. Dotty. 

Prof. Elvira Jones-Johnson, Prof. Dolly Dimple, Professcr 

Instructor of Advanced The* of the Art of Courtship, 

ology. Forewoman of the Jury and 

eleven jurors. 

THE TRUTH ABOUT JANE 
A Comedy in One Act 

By Alice C. Thompson 
Seven females. Costumes modern ; scenery, an easy interior. Plays 
twenty-five minutes. A very easy, bright and up-to-date piece doing 
justice to the virtues of the " athletic " girl. Strongly recommended. 
Price, 15 cents 

OYSTERS 

A Farce in One Act 

By Alice C, Thompson 
Six females. Costumes modern; scene, an easy interior. Plays 
twenty minutes. An easy and clever little play for younger girls, with 
one old maid character. A novel idea very amusingly treated. Strongly 
recommended. 

Price y IS cents 



New Entertainments 



DRILLS AND ENTERTAINMENTS 
FOR CHILDREN 

By Harriette Wilbur 

Author of "All the Year Round," "Little Plays for Little 
Players" "A Dream of Mother Goose " (in part), etc. 

A collection of pretty and picturesque drills containing several of un- 
usual novelty and effectiveness. Of the thirteen entertainments the first 
seven are quite new ; the last six have appeared before as independent 
books with good success. All are published complete with diagrams and 
all necessary music that can be reprinted and full instructions for proper 
production. The following list of titles will give a better idea of the 
variety and scope of the collection than can be conveyed by any description. 
Price, 25 cents 

CONTENTS 

A Billiken Frolic. For eight boys. 

Teddy Bear and Johnny Bear. For eight small boys. 

« r NiD Nid Nodding." For any number of little children Jrom 
three to six. 

The Workers. For twelve boys. 

A Pop-Corn Ball. For eight, twelve or sixteen girls, twelve 
or thirteen years of age. 

Highland Echoes. For any even number of boys. 

A Yard of Dandelions. For eleven little girls. 

Juvenile Fantastics. For an equal number of girls and boys 
from six to nine years old. 

The Butterfly. For any number of primary pupils. 

The Soap-Bubble Drill. For sixteen girls. 

The Tennis Drill. For sixteen girls. 

The Harvesters. For eight boys and eight girls. 

The Bread and Milk Drill. For ten children, boys and girls. 

The incidental music for "A Billiken Frolic" is published 
•eparately and can be supplied in sheet music form. 
Price, JO cents 



Sent post-paid on receipt of price by 

Walter H. Baker & Co., 5 Hamilton Place 
BOSTON, MASS. 



By the Author of "Mr. Bob" 

THE NEW CRUSADE 

A Comedy in Two Acts 
By Rachel Baker Gale 
Twelve females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Plays one 
hour and thirty minutes. A very amusing satire of the servant girl ques- 
tion, brimful of telling incidents and effective lines. All the parts are 
good and of nearly equal opportunity, and practically play themselves. 
Well rehearsed, it is a sure success and goes with a scream. Irish, negro 
and Swede character parts and a " tough " girl. Strongly recommended 
for ladies' clubs. Can be played only on payment of a royalty of $5.00 
to the author. 

Price, 25 cents 

CHARACTERS 
Miss Morris, nothing if not businesslike, 

Mrs. Cogswell-Brown, who believes in cooperative housekeeping, 
Mrs. Potter- Hewitt, who looks small, but is not. 
Mrs. Raymond, who advocates "The New Crusade."* 
Mrs. Archibald Tracey, in search of a maid and experience. 
Bridgett Mahoney, in search of" an ould gintleman." 
Mary Macguire, who likes "the they aire in the winter toime.** 
Augusta Olsen, who comes from "Svedenfor big monay." 
Cassie Clay, who never "takes suggestions from anybody** 
Jennie Burch, who never "has time for afternoon tea.'* 
Matilda Johnson, who likes "slaughtermobiles and a choffer" 
Merry, the settlement girl— who s always "on de level** 

COATS AND PETTICOATS 

A Comedy in One Act 

By Rachel Baker Gale 
One male (played by a woman), seven females, and if desired, sixteen 
girls for chorus. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays forty-five 
minutes. A very lively and amusing piece introducing fancy dresses, 
music and dancing. All the parts of about equal opportunity. Irish 
comedy part and two capital " old maids." Very funny and not difficult. 
Complete with music for the Suffragettes' song and march and the Old 
Maids' song and march. Very strongly recommended. 
Price, 25 cents 

AN EASY MARK 

A Farce in One Act 

By Inn is Gardner Osborn 
Five males, two females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an easy interior. 
Plays thirty-five minutes. A side-splitting farce of college life lively enough 
to suit the most exacting demands. Full of funny incident and telling 
lines. Burlesque actor and " tough " young man parts ; the rest " straight" 
and all good. Recommended for schools. Price, /J cents. 



New Plays 



HIS WORD OF HONOR 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Charles Go J 
Eleven males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors 
and an easy exterior. Plays two hours. An exceptionally good college 
play, high in tone and aim, and faithful in atmosphere and color. Its 
theme is taken from the serious side of college life, — the so-called " Honor 
System " in college examinations, — but its humorous traits are various and 
rich and its general tone gay and vivacious. Very strongly recommended 
for sciiools, particularly for co-educational institutions. Will suit both in- 
structors and instructed. 

Price, 25 cents 

CHARACTERS 
Dick Walthour, a senior. 

Harvey Grant, a senior, presidetit of the Student Council. 
Bert Flemming, Dick's roommate, a junior. 
Arthur Carson, a Virginian, a junior 
William Henry Fraser, alias " Kid," a freshman. 
Hunter, Jackson, King, Wilkins, students. 
Jeremiah Hackett, a sophomore, Fraser s roommate. 
Coffey, a. postman. 

Helen Flemming, Bert's sister, a junior. 
Janette Gordon, a junior. 
Molly Atkins, a freshman. 
Arethusa A. Judkins, a sophomore, a "grind.*' 
Mrs. MacInchbald, the chamber-" maid." 
Professor Nicely, Professor Loomis, and others. 

WHEN WOMEN VOTE 

A Farce in Two Acts 

By Anna P. See 

Five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, an easy interior. Plays 

forty minutes. A good-natured and clever forecast of the time when the 

Suffragette has won her fight, telling an amusing little story to carry its 

satire. Good for women's clubs ; easy and bright. 

Price, 15 cents 

BUMPS 

A Farce in One Act 
By Lillie Davis 
Three females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays twenty- 
five minutes. An amusing little hit at the fad of phrenology, suitable for 
scnool performance. Clean and bright. 

Srice is cents 



New Plays 



MID-CHANNEL 

A Play in Four Acts 

By Arthur Wing Pinero 
Six males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. 
Plays two and a half hours. This strong and interesting work by Eng- 
land's leading dramatic author will be remembered through the performance 
of its leading character in this country by Miss Ethel Barrymore. It man- 
ifests the same absolute technical skill that always distinguishes the work 
of this writer and is, besides, interesting in theme and characters to a 
greater extent than any of his recent plays. An admirable reading play. 
Stage rights reserved for the present. Price, 50 cents. 

THE THUNDERBOLT 

A Comedy in Four Acts 
By Arthur Wing Pinero 
Ten male, nine female characters. Scenery, three interiors ; costumes, 
modern. Plays a full evening. A powerful acting play that reads like a 
novel. Acting rights reserved for the present. Price, jo cents. 

THE NEW YORK IDEA 

A Comedy in Four Acts 
By Langdon Mitchell 
Nine male, six female characters. Scenery, three interiors ; costumes, 
modern. Plays a full evening. Well known through the performance of 
Mrs. Fiske. Permission may be obtained by amateurs to play it on pay- 
ment of an author's royalty of #25.00 for each performance. 
Price, jo cents. 

COUSIN KATE 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Hubert Henry Davies 
Three males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two easy in- 
terors. Plays two hours and a half. Widely known through the per- 
formance of the leading role by Miss Ethel Barrymore. Sold for reading 
only ; acting rights strictly reserved. Price, JO cents. 

MRS. GORRINGE'S NECKLACE 

A Play in Four Acts 

By Hubert Henry Davies 

Five males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, a single interior. 

Plays two hours and a half. Well known through the performance of Sir 

Charles Wyndham. Sold for reading only ; acting rights strictly reserved. 

Price, jo cents. 



New Publications 



PIECES PEOPLE PRAISE 

Serious, Humorous, Pathetic, Patriotic and Dramatic 

Selections in Prose and Poetry for Reading 

and Recitation 

One hundred selections in prose and verse by Mark Twain, Oliver 
Wendell Holmes, Robert Buchanan, James Russell Lowell, George William 
Curtis, Edward Eggleston, Nora Perry, Wendell Phillips, Charles Sum- 
ner, Charles Dickens, Henry Clay, John Boyle O'Reilly and the author 
of " Betsy Bobbin." Over 200 pages. 

Price, 23 cents 



PIECES PEOPLE RECOMMEND 

Serious, Humorous, Pathetic, Patriotic and Dramatic 
Selections in Prose and Poetry for Readings 
and Recitations 

One hundred selections in prose and verse by Longfellow, Whittier, 
T. W. Higginson, Will Carlton, F. H. Gassaway, Tennyson, Bret Harte, 
Irwin Russell, Arthur Sketchley, Bulwer-Lytton, O. W. Holmes, Southey, 
Samuel Lover, J. M. Bailey, Theodore Parker, Thackeray, M. Quad, 
Fitzjames O'Brien, William Cullen Bryant and others. Over 200 pages. 
Price, 25 cents 



LITTLE FOLKS ENTERTAINMENTS 

A Collection of Drills, Finger Plays, Recitations, Wax- 
Works, Pantomimes and Tableaux for Little 
Children 

Written and arranged by 
Nellie B. Case, L. B. Case, and others 
Comprising eight finger plays, sixty-nine recitations and dialogues, 
three drills, etc., all complete with music, and a large and varied assort- 
ment of Mother Goose entertainments. Something for all occasions. 
Price, 25 cents 

Sent postpaid on receipt of price by 

Walter H. Baker & Co., 5 Hamilton Place 

BOSTON, MASS. 



New Publications 



THE PROSPECTOR 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Willis Steell 

Six male, two female characters. Costumes modern ; scenery, two in 
teriors. Plays two hours. A compact little comedy of American business 
life of the popular type. Its small cast naturally gives good opportunity 
to all its few characters, its story is sympathetic, its action brisk, its dia 
logue good, and its character-drawing effective. Strongly recommended 
to such as are in want of a short cast and easy production. Professional 
stage-rights reserved. Royalty for amateur performance ten dollars 
($ 10.00) for each performance. 

Price, so cents 

CHARACTERS 

Tom Preston, the prospector. 

Walter Shede {pronounced Sha-dy). 

Robert Emmett McGowan. 

Charlton, of the Charlton Construction Co* 

Dr. Manning. 

Mr. Jenks, an agent. 

Felicia Kelso. 

Kate Carew. 

THE GRAND DICKENS COSMORAMA 

Comprising several unique entertainments capable of 

being used separately or in combination, 

for school, home or hall 

By George B. Bartlett 

Strongly recommended as a Dickens entertainment for its variety of 
material and comprehensiveness. Its elasticity in the matter of scale fits 
it for th« use of either large or small occasions. 
Price, 25 cents 

COBWEBS 

A Juvenile Operetta in Three Acts 

By Elizabeth P. Goodrich 
Two male, four female characters. Scenery, all interiors, but of small 
importance ; costumes to suggest insects, but easily arranged. Plays an 
hour and a half. A very pretty little operetta for children, easily gotten 
up. The music is original and is published complete with the text in one 
volume. Can be recommended. 

Price, 25 cents 



H. li). Pinero's Plays 

Price, SO gents €acb 



lVIIH fH ANNFI riav ln Four Acts< Six mal e». five females. 
lTliU-V>Il/\llllEiLi Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. 
Plays two and a half hours. 

THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH S"' a SiEft 

males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors. 
Plays a full evening. 

TUC PRflFIIPATF Play in Four Acts. Seven males, five 
IIlEi I M/rLlUrtlL females. Scenery, three interiors, rather 
elaborate ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

TUP QfUfini MKTRFQQ Farce in Three Acts. Nine males, 
IIlEi O^nWULitTHOlIVLjOiJ Beve n females. Costumes, mod- 
ern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY 2g?2£ .*S 

females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a 
full evening. 

QWFFT I AVFNHFR Comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, 
O TT £i£i 1 Ltix l EtlllSEilV f our females. Scene, a single interior, 
costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF THITlMnFRRfll T Comedy in Four Acts. Ten males, 
HIE. 1I1U1i1/EiI\DI/LiI nine females. Scenery, three interi- 
ors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF TIMF^ Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. 
lUC. 1 llTl£ik3 Scene a single interior ; costumes, modern. Plays 
a full evening. 

THF WFAKTR ^FY Comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, 
1 OEi W £j/\Iv£jIv OJZiA eight females. Costumes, modern; 
scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE gSSJ^SS^gt 

Costumes, modern; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Salter $. Pafeer & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



MAR 31 19)8 

SmS:,SL CONGRESS 



016 102 922 " < 



decent popular ^ia^s 



TDE AWAKENING 



THE FRUITS OF ENLIGHTENMENT 



AN IDEAL HUSBAND 



Play in Four Acts. By C. H. Chambers. 

Four males, six females. Scenery, not dim- 
cult, chiefly interiors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 
Price, 50 Cents. 

Comedy in Four Acts. 

By L. Tolstoi. Ta\ enty- 
one males, eleven females. Scenery, characteristic interiors ; cos- 
tumes, modern. Plays a full evening. Itecommended for reading 
clubs. Price, 25 Cents. 

HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR frSSSSS£^ 

males, three females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interior. 
Acting rights reserved. Time, a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

Comedy in Four Acts. By Oscar Wilde. 

Nine males, six females. Costumes, mod- 
ern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. Acting rights 
reserved. Sold for reading. Price, 50 Cents. 

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST SK2* £ gg- 

Wilde. Five males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenes, two 
interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Acting rights re- 
served. Price, 50 Cents. 

LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN »%?^t«^£ 

males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full 
evening. Acting rights reserved. Price, 50 Cents. 

NATHAN HAIF Play in Four Acts. By Clyde Fitch. Fifteen 
liAHl/\n llttLtfLt males, four females. Costumes of the eighteenth 
century in America. Scenery, four interiors and two exteriors. Act- 
ing rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

THF ftTHFR FFI TftW Comedy in Three Acts. By M. B. Horwe. 
IIIL, U1ULII ILfWAFYY Six males, four females. Scenery, two 
interiors ; costumes, modern. Professional stage rights reserved. 
Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

Comedy in Four Acts. By C. H. 

Chambers. Four males, three fe- 
males. Scenery, an interior and an exterior; costumes, modern. 
Acting rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

A WOMAN OF NO IMPORTANCE 8H5R&E , S4M 

seven females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors and an 
exterior. Plays a full evening. Stage rights reserved. Offered for 
reading only. * Price, 50 Cents. 



TflE TYRANNY OF TEARS 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Salter i^ TBalier & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place. Boston, Massachusetts 



PARKHILL <L CC , PRINTEI B. 



